The Punk and the Rogue Referee
by PikoLovesLen
Summary: CM PUNK X BRAD MADDOX SLASH! Warnings: implied rape, mpreg. What is the real reason Brad keeps going back to Paul Heyman and Cm Punk. . .? A short drabble of shorts. I did this within half an hour and I put little to no efforts into it xD I just wanted to get the ball rolling and hopefully get people to like this couple a little more. I may make a more detailed version later.
1. Chapter 1

Brad Maddox, the "rogue referee", that "annoying man", which ever you want to refer him as, he's cocky, arrogant, and very persistent. But what is the reason he keeps going after Paul Heyman and CM Punk? For a job? Of course that is what he wants people to think, but there was really something else he wanted to talk to CM Punk about. . .

~Two months earlier~

Phillip Brookes, other wise known as CM Punk, was currently steaming over the fact that last week, that stupid incompatible referee cost him the match with John and Sheamus. There was no justice done on that night. And he was angry about it. Not the usual type of anger either, he was pissed.

He walked through the locker room area, heading to his own personal locker room when he stopped quickly. Right next to the bathroom door was a bag. The name BRAD MADDOX was stitched into the front. A smirk etched into his features. He turned to his personal hound dog, Paul Heyman, and asked for the bathroom key. Paul held a key they unlocked all the bathroom door, and then another that unlocked Punk's locker room. Just incase. Of course he agreed and handed it to him.

"Alright, go to my locker room and get my stuff ready. This should only take a few minutes." He commanded. Paul nodded and went on his way. Punk shoved the key into the lock and turned it, opening the door slowly and peaked in. Brad was too busy looking at himself in the mirror and trying to fix his hair that went out of place due to sweat. He backed up for a moment to slip his referee shirt over his head, then turned around, shocked to see someone standing there.

He backed up quickly and stammered. "Wh-wh. .CM Punk? What do you think you're doing in here?" Punk smirked a bit and closed the door, locking it once again and stepping forward close to the younger male. "You cost me my match. Now I think I will cost you your dignity. . ." He glared down at him with a slight devious glint in his eye.

"What do you mean. . ." he asked as he backed up more until his back pressed up against the mirror, starting to get even more terrified because he couldn't get away any more. Phil grinned as he unzipped his jacket and tossed it to the floor, shoving Brad by his shoulder roughly, causing the glass to crack. Maddox could feel his skin cut open and dribble blood.

"You'll see." He murmured in his ear as he gripped his hips roughly and slammed his body against his. Brad suddenly got a terrified vibe from him. Phil quickly got to work on him as he ripped apart the button holding his pants together.

"Punk- wait!" The black-haired man panicked and squirmed, trying to break free from his grasp. But it was no use, the other was too strong for him.

And so, it continued on, for at least half an hour. Punk left Maddox curled up in the corner, naked, and covered with blood and a white substance. "That'll teach you." He smirked as he clothed himself.

Brad panted heavily and gripped the wall with his nails, easing himself up. He glared at the WWE champion as he walked out. "Damn you. ."He growled.

~Present time~

Brad was walking slowly down the hall, looking for CM Punk. He searched for the possible things in his head that he could say to him, but he couldn't find the right way to tell him what he wanted to tell him. First of all, he had to get him alone and away from Paul Heyman. He knew he wouldn't let any one get in the way of him and his precious Punk. But there had to be some way.

Finally he came to Punk's locker room. He walked in and interupted Paul Heyman and Punk's conversation. "What do you want." They glared at him. "Look. . ." He paused for a second to think of what he could possibly say to interest them. "I need a job." Maybe they would have something for him to do. . . After all, he did help Punk with Ryback, so maybe. . .

Of course he was rejected, even when he tried again, saying he could help them. When Paul got in his face and told him to stay out of his life, he refrained from basting him in the face and just walked away. "Sure. .I'll stay out of your life. But I won't stay out of Phil's life." He growled lowly to himself.

When it was finally time for all the super stars to pack up and head home, Brad had an idea. He called on one of the referee's phones and contacted Paul's cellphone. "Hello?" The fat man answered, a bit peeved off. "Hello, yes. Is this Paul Hayman? I just got word that your car was being destroyed by a bunch of street thugs." Brad used as fake of a voice as a he could. Of course the idiot old man bought it. "Shit!" he cursed loudly. "I'm so sorry CM Punk, but I will be right back." He excused himself as he ran out the door.

Punk was confused, but didn't care none-the-less. He continued to pack up his belongings into his bag. Once Brad seen Paul rush out the door, he hurried to Punk's locker room and quickly walked in, shutting the door and locking it. "We need to talk." He blurted out before Punk could even turn around.

"You're wasting your time, Brad." He said his name with empathy. "I can't give you a job." Maddox shook his head and walked up to the taller man. "Actually, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about. See, there is something you need to take care of, personally." He said seriously as he looked into his eyes.

Punk nearly busted out laughing. "Really? And why?" he asked with fake curiosity. "Because, this is your responsibility." He replied and looked towards the wall, averting his eyes from the other's. "Oh yeah? What is?"

Brad took a deep breath. "I need five hundred dollars. . .for an abortion." he mumbled the last part quietly, but Punk was able to hear him. "I. .I'm sorry what?" Phil blinked confused, dumbstruck.

"You heard me. . ." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Your little `punishment` two months ago, remember? I don't have a job, as you know. So, I don't have any money. So unless you want to-" He was suddenly cut off when Punk pressed his finger to his lips. "Be quiet for a second you annoying slug." He groaned.

Maddox nodded a bit and allowed Punk to think. He turned around and covered his mouth with his hand. 'What do I do. . .' He kept saying over and over in his head. They were silent for about thirty more seconds, until Punk finally answered him. "Don't get rid of it."

"What?" Brad nearly shouted, shocked. "I said don't get rid of it. Or did you not hear me?" Phil turned back around to face the younger man. "But I-. . .I can't take care of it Punk. I already told you I don't have a job."

"You don't need one. I will take care of it with you." He said quickly, not sure if he was going to regret it or not. But he knew when he had to take responsibility for something. "R-really. .?" Brad looked up at him once again. "Of course" He sighed and rubbed his head.

A week later, Paul found out about this little "incident", and got pissed off over it. "How dare he claim that his whore child is yours!" he shouted, CM Punk listened to him carefully. "Paul, I did have sex with him. . .It is a chance that it's mine." He replied back. "No- but Punk." He groaned when his cellphone rang. "I'm so sorry, I need to take this." He answered it. "It's okay, I need to go get my things any way." Punk stood to his feet and made his way to the back.

As Paul was talking, Brad snuck by. "Pssst. . ." He whispered, feeling rather nervous about talking to Paul about this. . .Situation. "Hey Paul. ."He smiled shyly and mumbled quietly. "I gotta call you back." the old man said to the guy on the other line.

Once he hung up, that was when all the anger started to come back. "I guess I wasn't clear enough last week, so please. Let me say this slowly enough so even YOU can understand." He bitched at him. "Okay." Brad grinned, oh god this was going to be good.

"I. Don't want. YOU. In MY. Life." Paul yelled at him slowly and clearly. Brad continued to smile and nod. "Yeah okay. I get it." He could feel the hormones kicking in. "Who the hell do you think that you are?" He tried to refrain from going off completely, he was trying to keep a cool head about it. "You are not. Gonna talk to me that way. Not when I know that I can be of service to you, and to PUNK." He emphasized his name, trying to get the idea of "you can't get rid of me, I am carrying his child." across. But of course he couldn't say that with a camera right in his face.

"Really? Please enlighten me." Paul replied back. Brad knew this was coming, and he prepared for it. He found out he was with child after last match, and decided not to try to endanger the unborn child any more by asking for more fighting chances, but he could still be a ref.

"Well, I just happen to have my referee shirt with me. I was thinking of suggesting to Vickie to place me in your championship match. . ." He looked at him with pleading eyes. Really what he wanted was for Paul to stop hating him, so he could try to develop a more serious relationship with Punk. But of course, the man snapped back at him, telling him he didn't want him talking to any body, not even CM Punk.

Before he left, Paul threatened him if he ever bothered him again. Brad's face fell into a hurtful puppy face as he stood there, unsure what to do. All he knew was, he needed to talk to CM Punk about this.

~Two Weeks Later~

Paul was again, on his cellphone chatting with someone about the WWE, when Brad decided to see if he was still butt hurt over his precious Punk knocking him up. He walked back by him with a camera man following him. "Just like Paul Heyman, my dream as a youngin was to be famous." He turned to him and placed his arms on his shoulders. "And just like Paul Heyman, there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep my dreams alive. . ." He turned his head and looked at him. "Nothing."

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Brad's eyes held the words "just please give me a chance with Punk, I won't let you down." While in Paul's head, he was going back to what Phil had told him last week. Brad had confronted Phil, telling him what Paul said, so Heyman got a serious talk from his boss telling him never to speak to the mother of his child like that again.

Though it pissed the old man off beyond all reason, he wasn't going to lose Punk's faith and trust in him.

He smiled and nodded at him. "You know what. I admire your ambition. And I respect your initiative. And I'm a big enough man to admit when I'm wrong. And Brad Maddox I was wrong about you." He extended his hand. "You stick with me kid. . .I'll make your dreams come true."

Brad smiled and shook his hand. "Thank you Paul."

Now finally, he was going to be able to be with his Punk, and hopefully become a happy family.


	2. Chapter 2

1/22/2013

It was the tapping of another Smackdown, and Brad was walking around backstage looking for Punk, but all he found was Paul Heyman. When the old man saw him, he walked up to him. "Ah there you are. I would like to talk to you, it's about this `Maddox Experience` or whatever thing. . .I think I know the perfect place for you to shoot it." He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and started leading him away.

"Oh, alright." He smiled a bit and followed him. He lead him through the area and back to a dark room far in the back. .where no one would be able to see or here.

"So I see the Brad Maddox experience back here!" He exclaimed excitedly. "What do you think?"

Brad cocked an eyebrow. "Uhh well. I mean it's a big. .Dark tunnel." he looked at him like he was some kind of nut. Paul walked over to Carson, his camera man and commanded him to shut it down. "What's the problem?" he asked confused, seeing Paul's strange behavior. His camera man was just doing his job. After the camera was off, Paul turned to Brad again.

"Change of plans." Suddenly the black haired young man got a bad feeling. He paused for a moment. ". . .Okay."

"Bad news. Show's cancelled." Paul continued. "What's the problem?" He asked again.

"When CM Punk plucked you from obscurity, you think you're going to make it as a superstar? You were floundering in NXT and we maneuvered you to be the referee at Hell in the Cell. To keep Ryback from winning the title. And we paid you handsomely. And then you kept coming back for more. And coming back for more and coming back for more. Now, when we pay the Shield to do a job, they don't keep coming back for more and coming back for more they wait for us to come to them and say we need help and we pay the Sheild. And yes Brad, we pay the Shield more than we pay you but the Shield is more effective at what they do than you are."

Brad looked away for a second, then looked back. Was this really all about him asking him for a job? He wasn't sure. But he had a feeling it wasn't all about that. He still hated him for trying to get close to Punk. And maybe Punk didn't want him around either. . .

He wasn't sure what to say, he was speechless. But suddenly he felt someone come up behind him. He jumped and quickly turned around. Of course it had to be the Shield. They surrounded him and made him feel uneasy. He looked at Paul, face full of fear. "Problem?" One of the members taunted him.

". . .Paul." He said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Yes?" the old man answered. Brad shifted back and forth and looked down nervously. "Please. ."

"Please?" Paul repeated. "Okay? Please." he said again. "I'll leave." He was almost shaking. "Alright? I'll leave. Paul please."

"Shhh." Paul pat his shoulder. "Take this beating like a man." After he said that, his heart dropped, and he was terrified through out his whole body. This can't be happening.

"You wanted an experience." He finished. "Paul just. . ." He tried to stop himself from breaking down and just came out with it the idea, Punk must hate him. He must not want him. "Tell Punk I'm sorry. . .And I'll go." He knew the fear on his face was showing, and when Paul got closer to him and stroked his hair, pressing his face against his, he almost broke out in tears. This isn't happening.

After Paul walked away, he took a deep breath as the three men surrounded him. One wrapped his arm around his neck roughly and drug him down onto the floor. And the three men continued with beating him down.

He tried to protect his stomach the best he could, but it was no use. They were too forceful and strong. When he felt a thick, crimson liquid dripping down his leg, he knew he had lost it.


End file.
